Snow, Colds, and Toe-Sucking.

OK. So Maya and I just got home from a birthday party, and also the most treacherous drive I've ever driven. The snow here is craaazay right now, and nothing was plowed, and it was a near disaster. My Jeep slipped and slid so much I thought we were done for. Then at one point, I had to run a red light at a major intersection, because I could. not. stop.

Then coming home, I so damn-near hit the truck in front of me I about peed my trou. It was miserable. We were thisclose to needing abandon ship and to swim home.

But hey, the party was fun. Except for the people with colds, hacking their lungs out. :)

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Besides sharing the details about my hellacious journey with you folk, I also wanted to share something else. On the road (of doom) coming home, I passed a store. It was called "Sweet Feet." Below their billboard was a sign. And here I quote.

"Ice Cream Flavored Pedicures"

What. I mean, just, what. Not ice cream scented, but ice cream FLAVORED? Because, uhhh, someone's gonna snack on your toes? Lick those babies? Suck your sole? WTF.

"Honey, I just had the most fantastic pedicure. Come taste my toes!!"

Good grief.

I have a suggestion for Ben & Jerry's. If we have ice cream flavored pedicures, how about this?

NOM NOM NOM.

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Now then. If this blizzard would kindly stop, as we have to make a two-hour drive to Great Wolf Lodge tomorrow morning. D:

The Trader Joe Incident.

I briefly mentioned this in an earlier blog, but wanted to dive into the full tale, as it has been on my mind lately since Naomi is now old enough to sit in restaurant high chairs, and we're once again getting dirty looks when we put the shopping car/high chair covers on first.


The part I mentioned earlier was thus: I once had a brazen and crotchety elderly gent at Trader Joe's comment on my shopping cart cover. This is approximately what took place:

Intrusive Dense Ignoramus Opining on my Techniques (hereafter IDIOT): "You know, you are doing a great disservice to you gnawing infant's immune system by protecting her from shopping cart germs."


Me: "OK buster, let's see YOU fucking lick this shopping cart handle, you rat bastaaaad. How do you like them fecal germs?"

(Is that Steve Carrell?)

Me, instead: "I just don't want her chewing on the cart, is all."

IDIOT: "But she'll never develop an immune system that way!"

Me: "Oh yeah, because swine flu and staphylococcus does wonders for a teeny tiny baby, ya got-damn moron."

Me, instead: "Oh, OK, oh well."

IDIOT: "Children need to be exposed to germs. You are doing her a great disservice."

Me: You already said that, IDIOT, so STFU and leave me and my clean, healthy infant alone. My baby is only 7 months old and needs to be exposed to stomach flu and pinkeye and the Grippe and Rosela and whooping cough and Consumption like I need a third nipple. On my forehead. And PS: You are full of horseshit.

Instead: "Oh, she gets plenty of germs; we have a dog and two cats at home" (which was true at the time). 

Now get this. He literally recoiled in horror, shocked to the core, and said (WAIT FOR IT)-- "Oh no! That's terrible!" (Verbatim.)

...I was like, "WHAT THE FUCK, SIR? WHAT THE FUCK??" 

I guess he wanted her to suck the everliving shit (pun intended) out of the shopping cart handle (including the fecal coliform and shigella thereon), but being exposed to household pets and their dander (which, by the way, is encouraged by the Hygiene Hypothesis) was just going WAY TOO FAR. Too, too far, sir. Too far indeed. Bum-bum germs and influenza for a tiny tiny baby, yes. Kittycat fur, no. OK then. 


I gave him my best o_O, mentally flipped the old fucker the bird, and went in search of some christing pita bread. 

Because really?

And haters still hate every time I wipe down the table in front of my children, that they might not consume the hand-germs of the 500 people before them, nor the bacteria of the damp, dank rag that gave a cursory wipe of the table moments before. It's sad that I'm made to feel ashamed to clean the things my baby will suck on, like the table, but that's how people make me feel. Oh well. Not gonna stop me from breaking out the Sani-Hand wipes.